


Hope

by ghostea



Series: Delimpcol's Rare Pair Creation Challenge Fics [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Lucifer's Cage, M/M, Madness, Obsession, before Lucifer escapes the cage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7654291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostea/pseuds/ghostea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer has nothing in the cage other than suffering and pain. And then, he dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope

The cage was not fire and brimstone like so many believed but never ending darkness that sucked away all the heat that ever managed to slip between its cracks, paralysing Lucifer with frostbite unknown to human suffering, making his tattered wings frost and freeze, his grace ache and dim, his limbs froze and screamed at him every time he dared to move. The constant edge of hypothermia where it turned into euphoric bliss was balanced on but never crossed, only screaming pain that cracked flesh like ice and tepid blood freeze before even being able to congeal. Tarnishing his form in coats of his own blood and cloaks of frost. He had long ago given up on trying to see, there was nothing, no shapes, no texture, no colour. If there was one thing Lucifer missed, or at least let himself admit to missing it, it was colour, the life that seemed to burst forth from it had completely disappeared from his life, he was left to rot in the darkness.

That’s why when he had his first vision it was such a surprise.

Lucifer couldn’t exactly remember what had happened in the vision the first time. Only that it was vivid, about a person, and most importantly, full of colour.

When he had awoken from the dream-like state, so full of warmth and light and colour that Lucifer felt ill and everything had blurred he had cried for the first time since his fall, tears so hot they only froze once they had dripped from his tear tracked face. He had sobbed to his father, for who else could have sent such visions? Who would be as cruel to give him what he craved and then have him wake in his cage. Trapped, alone, so close to death but never quite reaching it.

The next few times he dreamt this dream it became clearer, a few things could be recalled. There was a man, a human man, Lucifer wasn’t sure why yet but he loved this man, he loved him like he had loved no other. Every time he awoke now he wept for the man he could not recall. His heart ached and broke and shattered like fragile rubies in his body, piercing his brightening silver grace with their pain, thousands of ruby thorns that had once made up his heart twisting his grace, emitting warmth into his fragile being.

He had never felt a pain that had soothed him and sent him into despair all at once before. He cursed it and cherished it and prayed to his father to send him more visions, not caring that he was begging the one who had thrown him into this torment when all he had given him was love and worship. He needed this human.

Time was outside of the cage. Lucifer had long ago given up on trying to assess how long he had been in his imprisonment, had given up on help or rescue, on his brothers and sisters, on his father. But these visions he was sent had made it clear a lot of time had passed. Too much time.

Was Gabriel well? He had fled before his fall, the last he had seen of his younger archangel brother was when he and Michael were snarling harsh words at one another and Gabriel had been begging them to stop. To just stop and be a family once more. They had rejected him, only to have been later informed by Raphael, who had grown cold and distant from them, that Gabriel had fled from Heaven in search of a new home.

He had loved his brothers so much, all of heaven, but the four of them, the archangels, they were his original brothers and he held them so close to his heart. Thinking of them made the twisted warmth pulsing through his being snarl and burn brighter. Lucifer screamed and cried.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he began to remember more and more of the visions. The human man who he loved so dearly was called, Sam, Sam Winchester. There had always been a beauty in a name amongst the angels, why his had changed from Samuel to Lucifer as he had fallen, no longer the most beautiful angel of heaven but to be remembered and spoken of as a twisted and foul creature. Lucifer had no way of knowing a humans standard of beauty within a name but to him nothing had sounded sweeter than the soft but strong tones of Sam’s voice, his name a balm to his tattered grace. Even the way the human looked and moved enthralled Lucifer. At the back of his mind he had balked at the idea of calling a human beautiful but never once had he ever thought Sam anything but. He was a warrior, full of compassion and strength and hope. He was a scholar, full of dreams and wit and logic. Lucifer swooned whenever in his presence, when they spoke gentle words together, Lucifer trying to explain himself to the human he would die for, begging for this one human in existence to understand him, to love and forgive him.

Lucifer could remember Sam’s voice but never what they had spoken, every time he awoke it felt like his heart was breaking even more. The things around Sam became a part of Sam. Sam was warmth, Sam was colour, Sam was life and love and forgiveness. 

The tears that fell from Lucifer did what they could to cleanse him, to bring him back to what he had first been. But nothing worked. Blood and frost would always overtake and hide away his once beautiful being, staining, tattooing his being over and over in what seemed like an endless cycle.

However the torture of the cage no longer tore at Lucifer in a way that forced him away from his mind. Every though he had was filled with Sam, Sam, _Sam_. Nothing was more important, he would save Sam from the mortal world, they could be together forever in the rebuilt world. The world they would rebuild together. And that’s when it clicked. Sam would be his one true vessel, he must be, who else would his father give him visions of? Who else would Lucifer so shamelessly love and adore? They were made for each other. Lucifer’s grace sung like it hadn’t in eons at the realisation. Without realising the visions became few and far between but it did not matter, to Lucifer he was always with Sam. Dreaming and wondering what he would be like, what he dreamt the world should be, what he would think of Lucifer and his now grotesque form. Would Sam love him like Lucifer loved Sam? Would Sam forgive him? Understand him?

Caught unawares he felt a tug at his grace from a crack in the cage, a scream of hope erupted from his grace as the small part of it wriggled free to find itself occupying the slaughtered body of a nun in a church of spilt holy blood. A demon awaited him. Azazael if he could recall properly. One his more darker and twisted creations of the damned human souls.

When the yellow-eyed demon asked for the future Lucifer hesitated. Should he tell this tainted creature all he knew? Would he taint the purity of his Sam? The very idea made the warmth inside him twist cruelly, snarl and boil.

“You must find me a child, a very special child” how much damage could the creature do with only that? Lucifer could only imagine but his time was slipping and he could feel the harsh tug of the cage roaring as its solitary prisoner attempted some sort of escape from its confines. He couldn’t even properly focus on the surroundings let alone tell the damned demon every detail before he was dragged away again. Back into the pit.

When he was once again completely trapped within he didn’t scream or cry. He smiled. He was getting out. He was going to see his Sam. His Sam. His Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. 

Slowly. Ever so slowly everything but the name of his intended slipped from his mind without his notice until it was too late. Trying to recall the humans face, his voice, anything and everything seemed like a faded scent after a long torrential rain storm. However instead of leaving his mind refreshed and ready to regrow it flooded it with debris and pain. He screamed and begged and prayed to his father to send more visions of his beloved. More. More. More. All he had left was his name, hope and the twisting thorny warmth within him that writhed in pain at the absence of bliss from his starved mind and grace.

He curled in on himself to protect the warmth that he feared would wilt and die like his wings had in the cage. Cocooning it with his grace and feeding it what little he could, all he could. 

Sam, beautiful Sam, would one day be his king and he his faithful servant. He would give him everything, the worlds belonged to them and they would rule them together. Forever.  
Drifting into the empty recess of his mind he let himself smile at something he hadn’t had in a long time. Hope.

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of liked this one but it is 4am over here so. This was written for the rare pair creations challenge, the months theme being Edgar Allen Poe's work and the poem that inspired this fic is called 'A Dream'. This months challenge also helped me pick the poet I was going to study which was pretty swell. But this is the last fic for the Edgar Allen Poe month, the next theme is songs and I'm excited to see what I get!


End file.
